Charlize tugged on the door handle. “Fine but you don’t say anything about anything—especially about work.”
He gave her quick wink. “I’m a vault.”
Chapter Eight
Connor followed Charlize into the penthouse apartment. For all the luxury, the building struck him as off. He’d remained at her back, watchful as always but his skin crawled the same way it did when he entered a prison block. Too much security, locked doors, security pads, cameras, not an exit or window that looked easy to get out of.
“Dad?” Charlize set her keys down on a large hall table, her heels echoing on the polished wood floor.
The scent of cigar smoke clung to the walls and furniture. She ran her fingertips over the back of an antique velvet couch as they stepped into an expansive sitting room.
A man sat in a green grandfather armchair, ankle resting on one knee, dressed in a three-piece-suit as if he was at some fancy-ass country club. He glanced up from his paper.
“Cherry, love, I thought you weren’t coming. What time do you call this?”
He spoke gruffly but he put his arm out and Charlize moved to his side and planted her full lips on his cheek.
“Sorry, I was held up.”
The man’s gaze landed on Conner and he nodded. Charlize stood next to her father, whose graying, dark hair looked as if it’d once been the same raven as hers was.
“Dad, this is my…” She wrung the strap of her bag with one hand and glanced between the two men. “My boyfriend, Connor.” She released the strap and looked at him, a slight line between her brows. “Conner, this is my father, William Halifax.”
Connor stepped forward and extended his hand. “It’s an honor, sir.”
William clasped his hand, putting enough strength behind his grasp to let Connor know the man may be older but not frail.
“At least this one has manners.” William blinked and turned to Charlize. “I thought you were engaged to that schmuck, Simon?”
Engaged?
The word punched him in the chest, spread rage through his rib cage. He forced the anger down. So she’d had a life… He’d had one too. But she’d been engaged—recently by the sound of it.
Fuck it, he hated the idea of someone else’s hands on her. From now on there’d only be his.
Charlize went rigid then red. She squeezed her father’s shoulder. “No, Dad, I told you months ago we broke up.”
William blinked again, gaze hazy. “Did you?” He shook his head. “Well I’m glad to hear it. I always said that boy was too much of a sissy for you. He’d never keep you in line.”
“Dad, honestly…” Charlize gave her father a pleading glare.
“This one looks as if he could handle you though. What you do, boy? You’ve got a military look about you.”
Connor’s attention shifted between the two. Was this their banter? Did her father enjoy teasing her or was he oblivious to the embarrassment stretching across his daughter’s face? Connor shook his head and folded himself into a two-seater. “No…former detective. In security now.”
“Connor, why don’t you help me put on some tea?”
William waved to her. “Leave the men be, Charlize.”
Connor watched her—she didn’t react as she normally would, just let things slide and walked into the other room.
“So, there much money in security these days?”
Connor didn’t blink at the question. He’d been a cop long enough to know when someone was trying to throw him off.
“There is when you own the company.”
William tossed his paper onto the table. “Got to know you can take care of my girl.”
“If any woman can take care of herself financially, it’s Charlize.”
Deep furrows fanned around William’s amber eyes. “A woman shouldn’t have to. The minute she starts wanting kids it’s private education and grand ambitions down the drain.”
A surge of defensiveness rose in his gut but he held it at bay. Things were starting to make sense. “We’re not exactly at the child-planning stage but if the time came, I’m sure Charlize could find a balance—she’s driven.”
“A little too driven perhaps.”
Charlize strode back into the room, a hand clenched at her waist. “Dad, where’s the milk, teabags? Hasn’t Lynette done your shopping?”
William appeared to grow three inches. “I damn well sacked her.”
“Why this time?” Charlize’s chest rose.
“She messed with my stuff.”
“Lynette was the best caregiver we’ve had in three years. How was she messing with your stuff?”